Page 81 of Bound to the Dreadlord

But this silence? This is something else.

Not tension. Not control.

This is hesitation.

And Veylan Drazharel does not hesitate.

I turn to face him, expecting cruelty, distance, punishment.

He gives me none of those things.

Instead, he watches me.

His silver eyes drag over me, dark, unreadable. Studying. Calculating.

Like a warlord who just took the battlefield and is trying to decide whether to burn it to the ground or claim it as his own.

My pulse trembles.

I don’t let it show.

Instead, I take a slow step forward, testing.

“You didn’t kill me.”

His jaw tightens. The smallest reaction.

But he does not answer.

I push harder. “Why?”

Nothing.

Another step.

“Why am I still here?”

Still, nothing.

The silence stretches, too heavy, too much.

It’s suffocating.

And I refuse to suffocate.

"Why are you keeping me here?" My voice is low, sharp, a dagger unsheathed.

He doesn’t flinch. Doesn’t look away.

“I told you.” His voice is calm, but there is something dangerous beneath it. “You belong to me.”

The words should be easy, effortless.

They aren’t.

Something shifts.

A crack. A hesitation.

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